


tear me to pieces, skin and bone

by wintercaps



Series: my boy [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Established Relationship, Face Slapping, Fluff, Hair Pulling, Impact Play, Kink Discovery, M/M, Masochist Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, sadist steve rogers, tiny dom steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 05:42:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16826305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintercaps/pseuds/wintercaps
Summary: “Don’t you ever — ever — think there’s somethin’ you can’t tell me about, James Buchanan.” Steve keeps his voice low as he pulls at Bucky’s hair hard enough to arch his neck back. “If you want it, you tell me and I’ll find a way to give it to you. You get me?”Bucky nods against the hand gripping his hair.“What do you want, Buck?”A shuddering breath falls from Bucky’s pink lips. “Want — want you to hurt me, Stevie.”





	tear me to pieces, skin and bone

**Author's Note:**

> second fic posted in one day i feel VALID in this chili’s tonight

Steve’s already asleep when Bucky gets home; he must be, since he doesn’t see or hear Buck come in before he heads for bed. Bucky’s up first that next morning though, humming away in their small kitchen.

“Mornin’.” Steve mumbles, briefly resting a hand again Bucky’s bare lower back as he passes. The days have been getting hotter, and they more often than not find themselves sprawled shirtless on the cool kitchen floor or on the fire escape, fanning themselves off, desperate for a breeze of air.

Bucky replies with a cheerful, “morning!” without turning from the bread he’s buttering. They’d had another one of their — arguments, the night before. It wasn’t serious, really. Few of their arguments were serious, and most ended in one or both of them storming off with scowls, followed by apologies a few hours later.

Bucky had, admittedly loosely, insinuated that Steve’s job wasn’t a real job. He’d vaguely mentioned that his own job were more _important_ than Steve’s. And Steve — he’d gotten a little upset at that. He took commissions and regularly sent in comics to various articles and sure, he did all of it from home, but that didn’t mean his job wasn’t as good as Bucky’s. He’d made five whole bucks that week just from a single commission alone!

They’d spent a good half hour shouting and cursing each other out, Steve in Bucky’s face, hissing insults he found himself regretting minutes later. He’d raised his hand, already curled into a fist, and been _this close_ to socking his best guy in the jaw. Bucky had grabbed his hat and coat and stormed out of their apartment as soon as Steve lowered his first, snapping something about heading to a dance hall to calm down.

Steve had gone to bed feeling like absolute shit.

“Hey, Buck.” Steve turns to face Bucky. “I’m real sorry for last night. I didn’t mean to get so sore, I just — didn’t like you actin’ like my job was no good. And I’m sorry for almost hitting you — you know I’d never do that to you, right?”

Bucky gives a shrug, echoing. “Right.”

Steve frowns. “You alright? You’re awful quiet this morning.”

“Yeah, Stevie, I’m fine!” Bucky tilts his head to Steve with a bright smile. “Sleep well?”

“Ugh,” Steve shakes his head, pressing in closer to Bucky’s side. “You know I didn’t. Never sleep well when we fight.”

Bucky makes a sound of agreement as he wraps the loaf of bread, sliding Steve’s slice of bread over. Steve mumbles his thanks through a mouthful of food.

The feel of Bucky kissing his forehead, just a brush of his mouth, has Steve sighing contentedly. He quickly finishes eating and tilts his head up, making a quiet, hopeful little sound. Bucky turns and presses a proper kiss to his mouth. Steve melts into the pressure. It’s a chaste kiss; a _good morning_ , an _I’m sorry for everything I said_ , an _I love you._

Bucky trails soft kisses across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his closed eyelids, his chin. Steve smiles the entire time.

Steve near drops his plate when Bucky pulls away and turns to face him fully. “What the fuck.”

Bucky grimaces.

“No, seriously. What the fuck, Barnes?” Steve puts his plate on the counter and dusts his hands off on his pants, before gripping Bucky’s cheek in a small hand. Dark purple mottles the skin of his jaw in a truly impressive bruise.

“You should see the other guy.” Bucky weakly jokes through a pained smile. Steve shakes his head in disbelief. The skin had split under the force of whoever had hit him, dried blood on top of a deep purple bruise on the hinge of his jaw.

Steve sighs and socks him in the shoulder, cursing him out. It’s just — not how they _work._ Bucky doesn’t get into fights, Steve does. Steve runs head first into bad situations with fists flying, and Bucky holds him back with an exasperated reprimand and a fond smile. The only time Steve can remember James Barnes getting into fights is when he’s trying to get Steve _out_ of them.

☆

Steve’s on his feet the moment Bucky closes the door behind himself. He leaves his sketchpad and charcoals on the small coffee table, though the dark smudges on his fingers leave stains on Bucky’s face when he holds him. It’s a split lip, this time. Dried blood cakes the wound, and Steve notices a faint purpling around his cheekbone. The bruise from the week before is just starting to fade into shades of yellow and brown on his jaw.

“Again, Bucky? Why the hell are you goin’ around gettin’ into fights? You’re not a goddamn kid, Buck.”

Bucky pulls a face as he pulls away from Steve’s grip. He easily steps around Steve’s small frame and wanders further into their apartment. “It’s not a big deal, Stevie. Just some guy bein’ a scrub at the docks, harrassin’ the other workers. I thought, what would Steve do? And Steve wouldn’t just let that happen without sayin’ a thing or two.”

Steve throws his hands up. “I thought we agreed that you would never do what I do! Your motto is _what would Steve Rogers do and then do the opposite_! Bucky!”

And Bucky just throws a charming smile over his shoulder, even as his face folds into a pained grimace a moment later when the action pulls at the cut on his lip.

“I hope it hurts.” Steve snaps, wetting a rag under the kitchen tap. “You’re a damn idiot, Barnes. Second fight in a week? The hell’s gotten into you.”

Bucky shrugs, pulling up a chair in front of Steve. He keeps his trap shut as Steve wipes away the blood, still muttering under his breath.

“No more, Bucky.” Steve finally says. The water runs red from the blood soaking into the rag. “No more fights.”

Bucky just smiles and shrugs and for a moment, he looks like he’s going to say something. Steve scowls and mutters, “stupid punk” when he stays silent.

☆

They’re used to having to be quiet. The walls in their apartment are thin, and neither of them are too hot on the idea of any of their neighbours hearing Bucky shout Steve’s name.

They’d had to pull their bed out from the wall to stop its rhythmic thumping, although the springs still creaked from time to time. The loudest thing in the room is Bucky, flushed all pink and gasping under Steve. His heels dig into Steve’s lower back, pressing him closer, gasping, “more, harder, Stevie, oh fuck, _please_ ”. And Steve muffles his responding growl into the flesh of Bucky’s shoulder, shifting his weight as he thrusts into the tight wet heat of his best guy.

Bucky tosses his head, making these little wheezing sounds that grip at Steve’s heart. “Stevie, baby, please, harder, c’mon, _harder_ , fuck me, want you to leave bruises, want it to _hurt_ —“

Steve digs the nails of his right hand into Bucky’s stomach, cutting off those sounds.

Bucky lets out something akin to a sob when Steve rakes his nails down his chest, raising red lines on pale skin. A strange feeling blooms in Steve’s chest at the sight of those marks; something like pride, but hungrier, _deeper_. Steve presses his fingers against the marks, testing. Bucky shudders weakly.

“ _Fuck_.” Steve suddenly gasps when Bucky shakes and tightens around him. He slams a hand into the mattress beside Bucky’s head, grinding his hips against Bucky’s ass.

Bucky grins, looking dazed. He draws Steve into a sweet kiss.

Later, Steve curls on top of Bucky’s chest, running his fingertips over the marks he’d left down his chest. Steve finds himself smiling. The marks — they look _good_ on Bucky. Real good.

☆

“No more.” Steve’s voice trembles with barely contained rage. “ _No more_ , Bucky.”

All Bucky does is shrug, lips pursed. His lip’s still split and the bruise on his cheekbone is still a dark purple-green, and now his knuckles are all scraped up and blood drips from his nose. Steve glares, holding the rag tighter against Bucky’s nose.

“Why the hell are you doin’ this, Buck? What’s got you so mad that you’re goin’ out fightin’ everyone in your path, huh?”

Bucky just shrugs again. A strangled sound leaves him when Steve drops the rag to grip his jaw, yanking his face up. Steve sneers, “Stop being so fucking — _stubborn._ Talk to me, Bucky.”

Several moments pass in silence, Bucky openly gawking at him. Steve grits his teeth, ready to turn and storm off to their room, before he notices the flush to Bucky’s cheeks, pupils blown out. His mind races, and suddenly, it clicks. The disappointed look on Bucky’s face when he headed out after their argument without Steve hitting him, the bruises and cuts, the way he’d begged for Steve to _make it hurt_ the other night.

Steve closes his eyes, breathing deeply. “Bucky. Have you been — getting into fights on purpose? Because you…….what, want to be hurt?”

Bucky recoils so fast that he almost tumbles backwards on the chair he’d pulled up. “I — that’s not —“

“No?” Steve steps in closer. “You sure about that?”

The blatant panic on Bucky’s face makes him feel bad for just a moment, before Bucky pushes off the chair and moves around Steve, clearly heading for the door. Steve intercepts him, rearing back a hand.

Bucky chokes on a breath when Steve swiftly backhands him. Barely a moment passes before Steve does it again, harder, sending Bucky staggering back in shock. He raises a hand to hover over the place Steve had struck him.

“Steve—“

“Shut it.” Steve steps forward into Bucky’s space, pulling him down roughly by the collar of his shirt. “Shut your stupid punk mouth. You — what, go around gettin’ into fights with random fellas just because I won’t _hit you_ ? You never — you never fucking _asked_ , Barnes! Of course I’m not going to hit you if I don’t know that you want me to!”

The soft swell of Bucky’s lower lip trembles for just a moment. “It wasn’t exactly something I could bring up over breakfast. ‘Hey Stevie, sleep well? By the way, I get all hot thinkin’ about you smackin’ me around.’ Don’t think that’d go down too well.”

A vicious snarl tears itself from Steve’s throat as he shoves at Bucky’s chest and sends him tumbling onto the couch.

“Stevie, I don’t —“

Steve crawls on top of him, striking him again. Bucky lets loose a low moan, eyes hooded. For all that Steve weighs, barely 100 pounds soaking wet, it’s more than enough to keep Bucky pinned to the couch. Or maybe it’s more than that; the way he looms over Bucky’s frame, hand curled into a fist, spitting at him to _shut the fuck up_.

Bucky gives a weak nod. Steve rewards him by using his free hand to wind into the soft curls of his hair and _pull._

“Don’t you ever — _ever_ — think there’s somethin’ you can’t tell me about, James Buchanan.” Steve keeps his voice low as he pulls at Bucky’s hair hard enough to arch his neck back. “If you want it, you _tell me_ and I’ll find a way to give it to you. You get me?”

Bucky nods against the hand gripping his hair.

“What do you want, Buck?”

A shuddering breath falls from Bucky’s pink lips. “Want — want you to hurt me, Stevie.”

“Yeah?” Steve uses the hand curled into a fist to lightly sock him on the arm. “Like that?”

Bucky shakes his head. “No. Want you to _really_ hurt me. I want — I want you to slap me and punch me and — and pull my hair and cut me and kick me and —“

Steve makes a soothing sound when he sees Bucky working himself into a tizzy. “You want it to really hurt, huh?”

“Yeah.” Bucky nods. His face is all red, eyes wide and soft, and he’s looking at Steve like he holds all the secrets to the universe.

Steve knows that he’s not exceptionally strong; hell, the only fights he’s ever won by strength are ones where he’s gotten lucky. Still, he knows that he can pack a punch. And, well — Bucky asked for it. Steve shakes his hand out for a moment, folding it into a proper fist like Bucky’d taught him when they were younger, and punches him straight on the jaw. Bucky gasps and curses and his hips jump as his head snaps to the side.

“Holy shit.” Bucky wheezes. He rapidly blinks back the wetness lining his eyes. Steve presses his thumb to the place he’d struck. A choked sound escaped Bucky’s pretty lips as he squeezes his eyes shut against the pain.

“ _Steve_.” Bucky gasps. Steve holds it for a moment, applying extra pressure, before withdrawing his hand. All of the tension in Bucky’s body seeps away, Steve watching in awe as Bucky near melts into the couch. Bucky works his jaw, quietly repeating Steve’s name.

Steve ducks his head to briefly press a kiss to Bucky’s collarbone before he opens his mouth and digs his teeth in. Bucky jerks, shouting. Steve warningly digs his nails into Bucky’s shoulder to keep him still as he laves his tongue over the deep teeth marks he’d left behind. A faint tremor runs across Bucky’s skin at the touch.

“All you had to do was ask, Buck.” Steve grazes his teeth over the swell of his pec. “Just had to ask and I would’ve _wrecked_ you. Still will, if you ask pretty enough. Gotta make up for all the stupid reckless fights you’ve been gettin’ into.”

Bucky tosses his head back, gasping “ _Please,_ Steve. Please? Oh, fuck, please hurt me.”

Steve presses his grin into Bucky’s hipbone, digging another bite into the flesh there. Steve knows that they’re going to have a _lot_ of fun with this.

**Author's Note:**

> masochistic bucky is my lifesource. comments and kudos are ALSO my lifesource, so feel free to throw some my way >:3c  
> i’m starduststeverogers on tumblr! i love talking to new people :D


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